It was tremendously satisfying when, with a click, the wall swung open.
And there. There she was. Ming Kow’s infamous vault.
Coop knew the brand because that had been included in the plans as the vault had been built into the house, but he’d have to figure out the combination himself. He hoped the info Nat had given him was correct—that the server was inside—because this particular safe was a pain in the ass. Slowly and painstakingly, he turned the dial, listening for anomalies.
“Where you at?” Sterling blasted into his ear.
“I’m at the vault. Shut up.” Honestly. Sometimes Sterling had the worst timing. The crackle in his ear was a concern. The last thing he wanted to do was lose his eye in the sky because Ming Kow had installed an electromagnetic block in his vault.
“Cesium. You’re gonna need to move it. The guards are coming back.”
“Shut up.” As if this wasn’t difficult enough without a bird chirping in his ear. But ah! There. That wondrous click and the vault door opened. The secondary door was even easier, as he quickly scanned, downloaded and punched in the password. The thumbprint on the third and final door was a breeze, because Coop had lifted Ming Kow’s print during one of his nocturnal visits to the man’s office.
It was nearly a letdown when the final door opened, revealing the object of his desire. The infamous hard drive. There should have been a fanfare at least.
But there was no time to lament such a thing. Coop pulled the chain from around his neck, which held his thumb drive. It looked like a simple medallion, but it was so much more. With a flick of his thumb he opened the device, inserted it into a USB port and began his download. He would have transferred the files directly to Sterling, but the signal in the vault was, indeed, blocked. All communications—including those with Sterling—were scrambled.
He checked his watch. This was the most dangerous part of the process, because he could not control how long it took. Seconds crept by. The guards could come by at any moment. The thumb drive flashed as file after file transferred to his device.
Sweat prickled his brow. His pulse thudded. His entire body thrummed with tension. Every sound sent his nerves into a whirlwind.
Finally, finally, the device flashed green and Coop yanked it from the port. He put it around his neck again and headed back into the office. His plan for escape was simple. Cut a hole in the floor to ceiling windows and slip into the foliage, where he could make his way back down the hill to the bay.
What a pity that when he stepped back into the room, it was filled with Ming Kow’s henchmen. And each and every one of them had a weapon pointed at his head.
“Well, crap,” he said, but he missed Sterling’s response, because one of those gun butts connected with his head and everything went black.
* * *
It took far too much effort for Nat to focus on her work in the days following her misbegotten tryst with Cooper. For one thing, thoughts of him, memories of his voice, his body, his scent would visit her at the most inopportune times. She would find herself in the midst of an unwelcome reverie, an embarrassing fantasy in business meetings, events and official dinners. More than once, she’d awakened in a sweat, in the throes of some delirium.
Moments like this, when she was taking deadly dull dictation, were the worst. Ming Kow nattered on for hours about this or that and Nat found herself almost on automatic pilot, which was imprudent, because she might miss the crucial clue she’d been looking for in regards to his association with Nurelnikov.
She needed to forget Cooper, but it was easier said than done. What a pity she had no idea how to eradicate him from her mind. No man had ever had such an effect on her.
Hopefully, time would erase him from her memory, or at least dull the sharp edges of her emotions when he came to mind.
Thank God he had gone.
At least she assumed he had gone.
Hoped that he had.
It was for his own good.
The phone rang on Ming Kow’s private line and Nat let her pencil drop. There would be no dictation until he finished with this call. It was a shame, because they were just getting to something interesting.
The memo he’d been dictating had been about the shipment for Donovan. Ming Kow was